Page 8 of Seduction in a Kilt

CHAPTER THREE

How could I have been so stupid?! I should have made sure tae take that ring off when I changed me clothes on the beach. Now they think I’m a spy fer me braither! I havetae get out of these ropes and get away from him before he either tortures and kills me fer a spy or sends me back tae Carson!

Ivy felt like she was trapped in a nightmare. She was tied up against a tree trunk in the forest, her hands bound with rope behind her, left alone with the ruggedly handsome - but terrifying - warrior. He kept shouting in her face, accusing her of being a MacAlister spy, shaking her so hard, her teeth rattled.

Despite her terror, her keen sense of self-preservation had her already surreptitiously working her wrists against their tight bindings. They bit into her flesh, but she prayed she could loosen them enough to eventually free herself and make a run for it when he turned his back.

That plan flew out of her head temporarily when he suddenly raised a massive fist and thumped her hard twice in the ribs. She heard herself groan as the pain lanced through her, knocking the breath from her body, making her feel sick. She drooped against the ropes, expecting more blows to come.

A memory suddenly flashed into her mind—of Carson holding her pinned against a stone column back home in Castle MacAlister.

She had been about ten and he had been eighteen. It had been shortly before the raid in which both their parents had been murdered and Carson had become laird. He had held her by her skinny upper arm, squeezing it so hard, she was screaming in pain.

“Give it tae me!” he had snarled in her face.

“Nay!” she sobbed.

“All right. This is yer fault, ye ken? Ye’re makin’ me dae this,” he told her. Then, he punched her in the ribs, and the small parcel of shortbread she had just been given by one of the cooks in the kitchen fell to the floor.

Carson had abruptly let go of her, and she had dropped to the flagstones, her whole body shaking as she leaned against the cold stone column.

“I hate ye,” she whispered through her sobs, determined to defy him no matter what.

Carson grinned and pointed to the shortbread. “Pick it up and give it tae me,” he ordered.

Ivy hesitated a moment too long. He kicked out at her, narrowly missing her head. “Pick it up!” he roared.

Hardly able to see through her tears, Ivy had had no choice but to do as she was told or she would have had to suffer more torment from her relentless bully. Her big brother had always enjoyed “punishing” her for the smallest of mistakes, reinforcing her deep-seated fear of him. With trembling hands, she had picked up the oiled paper wrapping and handed it up to him.

“There, that wasnae so hard, was it?” he asked, stuffing a slab of shortbread into his mouth and spitting crumbs as he sauntered off down the gloomy hallway laughing.

“Answer me, damn ye!”

Ivy snapped back to reality, only to find that the pain of being thumped in the ribs by the warrior had not abated. She closed her eyes and braced herself for more punishment, trying to pull as much air into her lungs as he could before the next blow landed. At the same time, her numb fingers returned to working at the knotted ropes binding her wrists.

She waited and worked, head bowed, trembling. But the seconds passed by, and no other blows came. The questions had stopped too. She opened one eye, and then the other, wondering how long the reprieve would last. Because that was all it could be, surely? A reprieve.

He was standing looking down at her with an odd frown on his sculpted features, rubbing a large, scarred hand over his dark stubble reflectively. Then, as if he had come to some kind of decision, the questions started up again.

“Who are ye? Why are ye here? D’ye work for Carson MacAlister? Are ye alone?”

But something had changed which puzzled her greatly: he did not lay another finger on her. Why nae?

He went on questioning her, clearly meaning to break her down. But however much she wanted to, she was afraid to open her mouth, figuring that once he heard her voice, he would know she was a woman. God only knew what would happen to her then.

In her vulnerable state of fear and pain, her mind a maelstrom of whirling thoughts, she finally gave way to his constant questioning. Trying hard to speak in a more masculine tone and maintain her disguise, she burst out, “I’m nae a spy! I was just after yer horse! What are ye gonnae dae tae me?” She was appalled at the high, strangled sound that came out of her mouth. He would guess she was not a boy for sure! It seemed like a miracle when he did not.

When he told her he was taking her back to some castle to be interrogated as a spy, panic rose afresh inside her. I havetae get away!

Fortunately, by this time, she had managed to secretly loosen the ropes around one wrist enough that with a huge effort of determination, she surreptitiously freed her one hand. She pulled at the bindings, and the rope slipped from her other wrist too. I’m free!

She was very careful not to let him see it, instead waiting for the moment when he would be distracted enough to give her a chance to get away. She planned to vanish into the midnight forest, confident there would be no way for him to catch her.

Her opportunity came when something made a loud rustling noise in the shadowed undergrowth a few feet away. The warrior’s head snapped around, his eyes scanning the darkness, his hand going to the hilt of his sword. Suddenly, a large white winged creature came swooping silently out of the darkness and flew across the clearing, passing over his head by just a few inches before vanishing once more into the shadows. He ducked, clearly taken by surprise by the appearance of the snowy owl.

Ivy was too, but she saw her chance and did not hesitate. She sprang away from the tree, the ropes trailing, and took to her heels, hurling herself after the owl into the darkness between the legions of trees. She ran as fast as she could over the uneven terrain, blundering over fallen logs, branches, and tree roots, stubbing her toes on hidden boulders, with only the occasional glimpse of moonlight from above to light her way.

As she ran, elation percolated through her limbs as she realized she had gotten away, that she was safe at last. I’ve done it, she crowed in her mind, he’ll never find me now!